


It's Complicated

by gyromitra



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Beauty and Beast, Crack, M/M, go bug waifu, this is all waifu's fault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 12:34:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10876896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gyromitra/pseuds/gyromitra
Summary: The fact that Beauty doesn't want to leave is a bit problematic.





	It's Complicated

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anaet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anaet/gifts).



> Two days ago, I paste some fear!au quips to waifu.   
> Waifu: You know, that’s fun, but all that Beast thing reminds me of the other thing with Beast written with a capital letter.  
> Me: Huh, can’t fathom. Tell me, I’m ripping off something more than Hellsing?  
> Waifu: You know, Beauty and Beast.  
> Me: I hate you. I mean, I love you, but I hate you right now.  
> Waifu: Imagine Jack in that yellow dress, tho.  
> Me: *almost chokes on coffee at work* This is ALL ON YOU!

So there’s this ‘merchant’. He’s coming home in his limo from a business meeting and stops by the whole ‘fuck off gloomy and depressing’ gothic mansion. In true intelligent brain fart way of things he, of course, sends a goon to fetch a bouquet of black roses for his barely legal fourth wife.

Of course, Reaper descends on them like god’s own wrath and demands compensation by the end of the week. The merchant shakily agrees.

Come another day, the goons are sent to tidy up the situation. Reaper sends them back in one box. Literally.

The second time it happens, it takes actually two boxes.

End of the week, a limo arrives and out, with two big-ass luggage cases, comes a strangely tall and buff cloaked figure that kicks open the gate.

“You’re not a woman,” Reaper tries to protest.

“Four brothers. Deal with it,” Jack counters and drags his luggage to the mansion.

*

“Okay, I get the whole gothic ‘we are all going to die’ aesthetic, but could you cut down on spiders?”

“What spiders?”

“Like this. This fucking thing is so big it has its own health bar.” Jack points to the ceiling, by the curtains.

“I feel offended,” the spider answers. “I’m not a spider.”

Jack screams like a little girl and jumps on Reaper, almost choking him with his panicked grip.

*

“So you got talking furniture?”

“It’s my curse…”

“Cool. Usually, it takes wifi and Google. Though, I don’t appreciate the chairs telling me I have a flat ass.”

*

“This has to end,” Amelie, the feather duster, cackles to herself while aiming down the sights.

Jack, updating his Facebook profile to ‘It’s complicated’ in the garden, just raises the metal tray to stop the bullet like it’s nothing.

*

Jack gets to getting rid of all the spiderwebs. It ends with a broom stand-off with a spider.

“I’m not a spider!” The spider screams before it scurries off to hide under his bed.

Reaper is not overly amused when Jack moves all his things to his room, citing ‘literal Lovecraftian horrors lurking around’. He is even less amused when Jack refuses to budge from his bed.

*

Gerard, the clock, tries to knife him in the back. Jack kicks him through an open window.

*

“What is your deal?” Reaper asks one day, frustrated.

“Oh, nothing. Father wants me to inherit the family business. Imagine me as a merchant. No, thanks, but no.”

Jack doesn’t mention the family business is illegal weapons trade.

“You’re not leaving.”

“Nope. Deal with it.”

*

Reaper has to leave for a week. He hands Jack all the keycards.

“The freezer in the basement. You don’t go there, I will know.”

“Sure.”

By the end of the day, Jack is inside.

“Um, hi?” Mei, the fridge, greets him.

“Nice setup. Would give father ideas,” Jack huffs, observing all the women frozen in ice. “For eating?”

Mei stares at him, horrified.

“Um, no, just storage.”

“Cool. Mind if I take pictures?”

“He scares me,” Mei later sobs to Zarya.

*

“What are all those charges to my credit card!?”

“Quality alcohol,” Jack giggles, downing another glass. “Want to have sex on the bear rug?”

“Not on the bear rug,” Zarya turns her head and glares at him.

“And yet,” Jack dramatically sighs, “it didn’t mind my bare ass yesterday.”

Reaper feels another migraine coming. Tries not to think why Jack was on the bear rug yesterday, naked.

*

How Jack got a hold of an assault rifle, Reaper will never know.

“I’m not a spider!” The spider goes for a full frontal assault. Jack, screaming in terror, puts several holes in the ceiling before he faints with a face full of skittering legs.

“I need to kill this fucking thing before it lays eggs in my brain,” Jack shakes Reaper with a glint of madness in his eyes when he comes to. “I need explosives!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

*

“What are you wearing?” Reaper just stares. Jack pinches at the yellow fabric of the dress that flexes in all the right places.

“Ana made it my size,” he snickers. “Said something about the ball.”

“This is by far margin the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Do shut up and humor your kidnapped bride, Reaper.”

“It’s you who doesn’t want to leave.”

Jack elbows him hard.

“Deal’s a deal.”

Somehow, they kiss after the dance.

*

“What do you want?” The pink skull observes him suspiciously from the screen of the computer.

“Reaper’s search history.”

Sombra considers it for a moment.

“What’s in it for me?”

“Oh, you know,” Jack grins, “there’s this singer coming to town next week and I got backstage access… and will bring in my phone…”

“You know what? Have fun.”

“Oh, nice,” Jack whistles after ten minutes of browsing. “Think Ana has something like this or do I need to make some orders?”

Reaper almost turns on his heel when Jack greets him later from the bed, clad in a black lace bodysuit and silver jewelry, hair painted white.

“Duh…” He says eloquently when blood leaves his head.

*

“Oh shit. Recent mom’s birthday coming up, I should make an appearance.”

“Remember, you must be back by midnight next day.”

“Stop being such a melodramatic bugger. I said I’m not leaving.”

*

And of course, Jack does not come back. As usual, everybody leaves him, and Reaper, lying on the floor, wishes he could just die.

“Stop your dramatic moping shit,” Jack crouches by him, with a rifle slung on his back, smelling of blood, smoke, and cordite. “It’s not you who had to fucking break out from house arrest.”

“I didn’t think you were coming back…”

“I said I’m not leaving. Told father where he can stick his ‘business ventures’.”

“I’m a monster…”

“Actually, I’ve known far worse.”

*

A week later, Jack changes his Facebook status to ‘Married to fucking edgiest motherfucker of them all’. Amelie and Gerard sulk.

*

It’s all dandy, even if the ‘I’m not a spider!’ thing happens at least once a week.


End file.
